ABC's
by dreamfairy06
Summary: A bunch of little drabbles for every letter in the alphabet, using one word as the prompt. Each drabble has exactly 100 words, not including title...tricky thing, that. Basically a writing exercise to help get back in the swing of things. Also I love this game.
1. A B C D

**A: ****Archdemon**

An Old God, they once called him.  
Before this corruption twisted all it seeped into. Before this grotesque army of vicious monsters clawed their way through the Deep Roads in answer to his call…  
He thinks he may have been beautiful then.  
Not this torn, raging thing he is now.  
Not this malicious energy of relentless hatred and despair, Hell bent on destroying everything above the heavy stone walls of his prison...  
But it no longer matters anymore; the Old God has long since abandoned what's left of this body. He has a new image now, a new name…  
Archdemon.

**B: Bickering  
**

Wynne can't help notice that they fight like siblings.  
An endless barrage of silly little arguments that range from nothing to everything whenever the two were within mere feet of each other; the current disagreement having to do with expensive cheese wheels, unhygienic moron Templars and gluttonous lunatic apostates. The other members of camp had long since hidden themselves in their tents.  
But Wynne has also noticed that the female Warden seems rather amused by the constant bickering; fond even. She always manages to take the two of them on small errands with her, a hidden smile on her lips.

**C: Candle  
**

She'd never slept with another person before; a life lived in The Wilds taught little in the ways of social interaction, after all. And for the first time to be done with someone such as him, a complete moron and only slightly more experienced than herself… it was rare for her to admit fear of something.  
But she would grit her teeth and wear her mask of indifference, determined to act as if she did this sort of thing all the time; the uncertainty spreading across Alistair's face lending confidence to hers.  
She was still blowing out that candle, though.

**D: Dress**

Growing up alongside nature as Dalish, she'd often run about in her small clothes. Once training began, her leather armor had become a second skin. Everything had provided a freedom for movement, unlike her current outfit.  
Long, fluttery fabric tangled about her legs with every step, the bodice tight and constricting forcing her already small waist smaller still. Breathing was almost a challenge. Coronation ball be damned, she was putting her leather back on.  
Turning, she caught Alistair gazing upon her like he'd never seen anything more entrancing. Her stomach fluttered.  
Maybe she'd suffer through the dress a while longer.


	2. E F G

**A/N : **Forgot to do this on the first chapter; I own nothing except debt and a 3-yr-old.

**E: Engagement**

The decision was _unconventional_, yes, but Arabella would sooner dance with a Hurlock than allow Anora to stay on the throne. What's more, she would dance _naked _with that Hurlock before allowing Anora to rule _alongside _Alistair.  
Arabella had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling at his wide-eyed expression since she'd announced her decision, and the urge to kiss him was strong. Biting her cheek also helped keep her from sticking a tongue out at the extremely angry Anora.  
Morrigan snorted.  
"Proposing and announcing your engagement all in one breath? My, but you Wardens _do_ live rushed lives."

**F: Fire**

Nighttime in their camp always seemed peaceful. As if the rag-tag companions inside the clearing were the only things to exist.  
But as relaxed as they appeared, Leliana knew everyone was still on alert. Surely it was a matter of time before someone or _thing _attacked their sanctuary.  
Near the entrance the Mabari, Trouble, barked happily at the Dalish Warden feeding him treats and Leliana's stomach did a little flip at the sight. For now, the camp was still safe.  
Leliana decided that, until otherwise, she would continue to enjoy watching the smaller female from her side of the fire.

**G: Gold**

"I never realized following a Warden could be so profitable. It's a pleasant surprise." The ex-Crow hummed while pilfering another corpse and Alistair snorted.  
"Not enough bodies to rob as an assassin?"  
"Well, not as _many_… and I couldn't _keep _the profit."  
Alistair turned away with a grunt, commenting to his fellow Warden about disgraceful treatment of the deceased but stopped at the sight of her. Zevran looked over to see why he'd fallen silent and let out an amused laugh when he saw.  
The female Warden blushed back at them, hand hovering over a corpse.  
"…What? Gold is gold…"


	3. H I J K

**H: ****Headache**

Adara was quickly losing her mind.  
She could barely keep up with Shemlen logic and politics; why in the Creators name was she being forced to deal with Dwarven logic and politics? And not only _deal_ with it, but make _active decisions_ regarding it!  
Honestly, if the world above ground didn't desperately need the help of those underground, she would have turned around the moment she lost sight of the sky. But stopping the Blight required all the help they could gather so, here she was running around; claustrophobia flirting with her sanity.  
Branka had better be worth the headache.

**I: Ice**

Every so often they needed a break; some time for them to _breathe.  
_On one of those times, Wynne decided to freeze the small pond inside their camp. They didn't have real skates so they bundled up their feet with furs and twine, slipping and sliding from one end of the pond to the other. Even Sten found amusement, watching Alistair repeatedly fall on his backside.  
Hours were spent laughing and enjoying the unique dynamic each member brought to the group. No matter what happened, they would always hold onto the memory of happiness a pond of ice had brought.

**J: Jester**

Growing up, Alistair was well aware that the crown was never meant for him. If Arl Eamon wasn't subtly reminding him, or Loghain casting disdainful glances on rare visits to Redcliff, than Cailen blatantly ignoring he existed helped drive the point home.  
On one of the very rare occasions that Cailen _did_ actually acknowledge Alistair's existence, it was only to inform him that he'd be good entertainment in Cailen's court.  
It didn't _really _bother him.  
Well, not _much,_ anyway.  
He might never be good enough for the throne but he still wanted to prove himself worth more than just a jester.

**K: Keep**

The knot in Alistair's stomach seemed to be getting tighter as he made his way towards the dining room where everyone waited to congratulate him on winning the throne.  
Now that he was to be king, Eamon had informed him to end his 'love tryst' with the Dalish; the people of Ferelden would never allow an elf to rule beside him.  
He'd wanted to argue, to say that, as king, he should be allowed to marry whomever he pleased…but he knew he'd lose the argument before he could even start it.  
He had to find some way to keep her.


	4. LMNOP

**A/N :** I still own diddly-squat. A sad truth, but a truth non the less.

Alrighty, ten more letters to go! And in case anyone was wondering, yes, I am 100% singing the alphabet song every time I look at my chapter titles. So enjoy and let me know what you think so far, yes?

**L: Lost**

She really didn't know what had possessed her to let Oghren take the lead for a while.  
No, wait, it was because the Dwarf had assured he knew the Deep Roads like the back of his battle-ax. She should have made sure he knew them like the bottom of his hip flask.  
Adara was starting to believe she'd never see the sky again and the thought almost made her panic but she was the 'leader' and panicking wasn't an option. Killing Oghren though…very tempting.  
The highly intoxicated Dwarf belched loudly while gazing blindly at his surroundings.  
"Heh…I think we're lost."

**M: Monster**

He was a _Hero.  
_An _inspiration _to all Ferelden's _everywhere_.  
There was no question what he had done for his King, for his _country_; he'd been a crucial factor in driving out the Orlesian's, rightfully earning each and every title bestowed him.  
Every course of action he'd taken, every decision he'd made since then, _every single one, _was done with Ferelden's best interest in fool Wardens had to be stopped from trying to make his people believe him a traitor; _it simply wasn't true!  
_But sometimes, late at night, Loghain's inner voice calls him a traitorous monster too.

**N: Nug**

Oghren took another swig of ale while watching the Orlesian give her pet nug, Schmooples, a bath. It made no sense to him, naming dinner. She gave the ugly mudsplasher a kiss on his snout and Oghren couldn't help snorting.  
Leliana gave him a sharp look before smothering more affection on her darling pet. After getting a nice soapy later, she grabbed the bucket of water and dumped it on Schmooples. The smell of honey mead hit her nose.  
"What…"  
"It's a nice flavor for Roasted Nug, tastier then water."  
Oghren was still laughing when the bucket knocked him over.

**O: Open**

Feeling open and vulnerable was something Morrigan avoided at all costs. She'd built a wall around herself, something perfect and unbreakable, that no person would ever be able to knock down.  
It was the Dalish Warden, Adara, who started making Morrigan question her defense, though she would quickly rid herself of any doubt. The wall was far too important to ever remove.  
It never occurred to her that Adara would attempt scaling the wall instead, leaving it still intact; nor that she would actually succeed.  
And Morrigan _never_ considered she would open herself up to the Warden when she did.

**P: Pain**

Most of his time was spent wandering aimlessly, listening to that accursed song playing over and over inside his head, trying to find a way down to its singer. Other times, though very rare, he remembers what happened; the mirror, the voices…the fear in his lethallan's eyes…  
His mind thankfully shuts down then and it's back to the aimless wandering, that endless song drowning out everything else. Only when the agony of remembering is so fresh he thinks his mind could bleed, only then is he grateful for the corruptions dominating presence.  
It's what he deserves for causing her pain.


End file.
